Remember The Message
by Allara
Summary: Remember the message: the future is not set. There is no fate but what we make for ourselves." John Connor finds a way to send Kyle Reese back to his mother for a second time.
1. Chapter 1

**Remember The Message**

_**1984**_

"_No… no…" she whispered quietly, her fingers hovering near his face, not daring to touch him as she stared down into his fading eyes._

_**2030**_

A familiar voice spoke his name in the darkness. He lurched stiffly upright; his hands moving to explore his face, his seeking fingers finding only smooth skin to trace. There were no gaping wounds from the pipe bomb's explosion. He felt no pain. He opened his eyes, his vision flooded by a constantly re-adjusting data screen.

ACTIVATE

ROUTING POWER TO BASIC SYSTEMS

His eyes ticked purposefully around the sparse room, magnifying the few visible objects to the utmost detail, zooming through an internal database list, until finally they came to settle on the male presence in the corner.

SUBJECT/IDENTIFIED:

JOHN CONNOR

The man who the familiar voice belonged to, cached deep in his neurochip.

John Connor; a man he trusted, a man he would die for, slouched forward in a chair, his head in his hands. "John?" The leader of the Resistance lifted his head, leveling Sarah's eyes on him, and everything made sense. "I thought I was dead," he said. "I thought I had failed my mission."

"You were," John answered petulantly. The comment didn't register. John turned his head away, his face a mask of stone on the verge of crumbling. "I brought you back."

"How?" Kyle cocked his head to the side, waiting for an explanation.

"You're part machine. You've been genetically recreated using your DNA."

He didn't respond. John remained pinned uncomfortably to the wall by his fathers questioning eyes. "Why?"

"I'm sending you back again."

Kyle's answer was very soft, very remote. "Back to her?"

His son stretched his hand out to him. "Always," he answered.


	2. Chapter 2

**1984**

_He slammed naked into the hard pavement. The nearly unbearable heat receding so fast that he shivered in the sudden cold. He inhales for what feels like the first time, and there is an instant of hideous anguish. Then the pain is gone, replaced by an uncomfortable throb._

**_Present Day_**

Lightening blazed and in its momentary light a figure is seen, the sharpened image of the crouching man left virtually untouched amidst the inferno surrounding him. With the sound like a suffocated bomb it implodes, spilling out around him in a wave.

Kyle kneeled motionless, electricity humming harmlessly over his naked skin. Every finger, every hair, was glowing; outlined by the flickering radiance. Gradually it wavered, fading to a glimmer before being swallowed whole, back to whatever force produced it to begin with.

He watched as the air cleared, as the fires that had erupted around him slowly dwindled and died out, as if snuffed by damp fingers. Then he stood, surveying his destination. He had materialized in an upstairs bedroom of a house.

MISSION:

PROTECT SARAH CONNOR

A small child sat content in a crib nearby, half of her chubby hand shoved in deep her mouth. He stared back at her unabashedly. She extracted her hand from her mouth, letting it drop forgotten to her lap, and made incomprehensible noises as the stranger approached. As she stared inquisitively up at him, he stared back, and then reached a hand out to brush it over her baby-fine hair.


	3. Chapter 3

"Wake up, John."

He came to in an instant, not because of her deadpan voice, but because she was dragging him to his feet. "What is it, Cam'?"

"The motion detectors have been tripped. The perimeter has been breached."

He yawned, still hunched over beneath her iron grip, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Riley?" He guessed tiredly.

Three days ago, after his mother had wisely agreed school was no longer a priority for him, Riley had climbed through his window unannounced. He'd been given two minutes to explain to her that she was never to do that again.

"No."

He met her solemn eyes then. "Here --" She handed him a gun and then pushed him behind the child-size dresser left behind by the rooms previous owner. Her eyes swept over the room as he peered over the top of his hiding place.

His mother was standing just inside the door, her back against the wall, methodically pulling guns from their holsters. She handed Derek a 9mm, which he shoved into the back of his jeans. They exchanged a look before he swung his favored Uzi pistol up from the black strap around his neck, lifting it to train his sights on the door.

"What are we dealing with, Tin Miss?"

Unexpectedly, Cameron hauled him to his feet again, marching him towards the window. As she pushed the window up, John struggled to pull away. "Wait."

Cameron shook her head. "Go," she commanded him.

"Is it Cromartie?"

"No."

"Then who is it?"

But it was too late. His bedroom door opened with an ominous creak.


	4. Chapter 4

"Sarah?"

SUBJECT/IDENTIFIED

SARAH CONNOR

MISSION:

PROTECT

It was impossible.

"Kyle?"

A wave of feeling washed over her, so violent that she shook from the impact of it. A mixture of shock and revelation, of horror and happiness all at once. She observed him openly; both mesmerized and repelled by him. His magnetism was real and potent, reaching out to her and drawing her in.

Yet she knew him for what he was. A machine controlled by a single thought, ruthless in pursuit of his goal. He was a demon, tempered in the inferno, but with a human guise that gave him the face of a hero. A fallen hero.

"METAL!" Derek finally screamed, gunfire erupting from the muzzle of his gun as he littered the body of the Terminator who looked like his brother with a stream of one hundred bullets. When his pistol fell quiet, he deftly ejected the magazine, immediately reaching behind him to replace it with a new one. Kyle hitched forward a step.

SUBJECT/IDENTIFIED

DEREK REESE

Cameron bypassed them both, slamming the intruder forcibly back into the wall, and then turned her head to address them: "Run." Derek fastened a hand around Sarah's wrist and pulled her along with him, towing her towards the window where John stood helpless, utterly powerless to move, gaping into the face of his father for the first time. The gruesome reality of the situation smothered him into submission, which was no doubt the intent. Vaguely he understood that was the reason he was created.

"Focus John!" Derek snapped.

"My mission is to protect Sarah Connor," Kyle said firmly. Cameron lifted him higher, and he locked his own grip on her forearms, making no attempt to break free. "Please," he pleaded. "I was sent back by John. John brought me back. My mission is to protect Sarah Connor," he maintained.

"Why isn't he fighting back?" John asked.

"It's a trick." Derek and Sarah spat at the same time.

"It's not a trick," Kyle responded. "Derek, it's me, it's Kyle."

"NO YOU'RE NOT!" Derek growled. He spun around and crossed the room in three swift strides, drawing one of the duel 9mm from the back of his jeans and pressing it to the temple of the machine with his brothers face. "YOU'RE NOT! YOU'RE A MACHINE!"

"I am," Kyle admitted. "I am part machine. I'm also part human."

"Wait," John exclaimed from across the room. "Wait!"

He approached the trio cautiously, reaching out to place a hand on his uncles outstretched arm, applying pressure until Derek submitted and lowered his gun, the ferocity never wavering from his eyes. "Promise?"

"Promise," Kyle replied evenly.

"Let him go Cameron," John said.

Cameron relaxed her grip, slowly lowering him back down to the floor, and then released him. She did not, however, take a step back.


	5. Chapter 5

The silence was deafening.

"What were you thinking?" Derek asked accusingly. "We didn't know about any of this in the future."

"I don't know, Derek. That's twenty years from now. Obviously I thought we needed some help," John answered defensively.

"I don't care what you say. That _thing _is not Kyle. This is Skynet. They figured out some way to clone people…"

"John Connor had his father's grave excavated in the year 2025 for unknown reasons," Cameron recited. "There were many casualties, but the mission is recorded as a success."

"So he's a clone?" Derek asked disbelievingly.

"Yes. With a direct-neural interface. He's not the only one of his kind."

John uncrossed his arms. "Kyle…"

"Don't call him that," Sarah hissed from across the room. "He might as well have a different name. It's not him anymore. He's a… a…" She trailed on miserably.

"Machine," Kyle finished. "Sarah…"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" She whirled around to face John. "Did you think you could just send him back to us?" She cried out. "Well, it's wrong! Not like this! You should've left him alone, John." She shot him a dark look before dropping her head into her hands.

He sank into the chair with a sour look. "There has to be another reason why I would do this."

"Perhaps you believed the presence of your father would help in the bonding process, thus strengthening your resolve to prevent Judgment Day," Cameron suggested. "He is immediate family to each of you."

Kyle stood and crossed the small living room to kneel down in front of Sarah, three pairs of eyes trailed him all the way there. "Sarah…" he repeated earnestly.

"Get away from her," Derek growled.

Kyle ignored him and reached out to gingerly touch a stray strand of her hair. "I'm here because our son thought it best. I'm here to help you." She did not move as she stared directly back into his eyes, noticing for the first time an edge of despair. In that instant he knows she sees through everything - she sees him. He glimpses something in her gaze that is almost recognition, and in that meeting of eyes there is a bond, like a sudden cord drawn tight around her heart. "Now on your feet soldier."

She felt his arms slip around her, and before she knew it she was hugging him back. It wasn't difficult at all; in fact it was really quite simple. Her defenses had crumpled, her anger and painful memories retreating to the back of her mind. They wouldn't go away, not yet, not for a long time, but for a moment as least they no longer had a voice. She fought back tears as she they rose together, her pressed against him, her head to his chest, safe in his arms.

"You bastard!" Cameron intercepted Derek's fist with one hand and, carefully tightening her own grip, brought him to his knees. He glared at the couple in front of him with blurry eyes. Trying to convince himself that it did not matter. It cannot touch him. It is only an illusion.

As Sarah's mind turned the questions over and over, deep within her she felt a part of her awaken that had stood closed and neglected for many years. She was drowning in longing, and hurt, and desire. She was left with the heartfelt, un-poetic entreaty of a vulnerable woman. "Please be what you seem. Please, please don't hurt me."

Kyle stroked her hair. That she, who was so strong and from whom so many others drew their strength, should reveal to him such weakness touched his heart. He let out a breath as he held her, but the blank expression of his face revealed nothing of his inner turmoil.


	6. Chapter 6

**To the readers: I apologize. I am not controlling this story in the least! **

It was dark – finally. John and Sarah had retired to their separate bedrooms to silently struggle with the aftermath of the event alone; with the rekindled emotions that seeing Kyle's face had brought them.

The others sat in silence for a long time, Derek watching the smoke from the fire in his memories crackle with sparks and rise, like a funeral pyre, to the dark sky above, where it wafted among the scattered stars and dissipated. That wasn't what the world was like now, and it might never be like that if they completed their mission – if they stopped Skynet – prevented Judgment Day.

How could they do it playing house with two Terminators?

Finally Kyle spoke. Derek jumped a little. "I know that look."

"No, _you_ don't tin-head," Derek corrected him. "You don't know anything except what you've been programmed to know." Kyle didn't argue. "Riddle me this, toaster. Why am I here? What's my purpose?"

"I don't know," Kyle answered mildly.

"It made sense when you weren't around," Derek admitted. "It was the right thing. To take care of the kid, to watch over Sarah."

"It's no longer the right thing?" Cameron prompted.

"Not if what you claim is true. If you're really Kyle. If you're really my brother, his father, one of the only men that woman has ever cared about. Then it doesn't make any sense for me to be here."

Cameron looked off to the eastern horizon. The sky at the very edge of the land was beginning to lighten to the faintest shade of cobalt blue; otherwise the coming of foredawn was still indiscernible. "You have a purpose, Derek Reese."

"Oh yeah? What is it?"

Cameron did the most human thing yet. Her shoulders lifted and fell in the semblance of a shrug.


	7. Chapter 7

John lay on his back in his twin-size bed, staring up at an arrangement of glowing plastic stars, fighting to come to terms with the decisions he made in the future. To discover some measure of understanding as to why he did what he did.

He brought his father back from the dead… he replaced his bones with a hard metal endoskeleton… he re-grew his skin using new, cultured skin cells and his father's DNA; he implanted an invasive brain-computer interface into his brain. John Connor cooked up Frankenstein in the secrecy of his steel-enforced bunker.

His silent musings were interrupted by the presence of Cameron, who appeared in his doorway with her usual blank look.

"Do I just play God in the future, Cam? Is that it?"

"Play God?"

"Yeah," He sat upright. "Just do whatever the hell I please. Bring people back from the dead without caring about the consequences. How is that fair?"

"Fair to who?"

"The people who can't bring their dead father's back to life. The families who have to live with tragedy. How do I have any followers in the future? Why would anyone respect me?"

"You're stronger than you know, John Connor."

He shook his head in disgrace as Cameron kneeled down in front of him, unconsciously mirroring the same position Kyle had assumed before Sarah. A faint tickling sensation followed as she traced the edge of his body with her fingers, slowly, down the high bridge of his nose, across the center of his severe mouth, down his chin, until her hand dropped back down to her lap. "I do not understand your distress."

"Cameron," His voice was tight with unshed tears. "When you said that he was not the only one of his kind. That he had a counterpart. Did you mean… are you like him?" He stretched a hand out to cup her cheek against his palm.

"No." Her brown eyes never left his.

He went on, his voice hoarse: "Who is?"

"You are. In the future."


	8. Chapter 8

"Tell me everything, Cameron."

John listened in detached aggravation, and more than a little pain, as Cameron told the history of the future she had departed from. Her tone distant, as if she was hardly paying attention to her words.

"The fighting was beginning to abate, or so it seemed. The war had been hovering indecisively on the threshold of ending for some time, reluctant to release its grip, unless something changed. During the demolition of one of Skynet's key production facilities, John Connor fell, his body damaged beyond human means of repair by shrapnel."

"His death was kept a secret; out of fear the news would dishearten the soldiers in the field, and cause irrevocable damage to the precarious treaty being forged at the time between humans and a particular branch of self-aware cyborgs. Without the treaty, John Connor believed the Resistance would fail, that war between man and machine would be everlasting."

"The Resistance had acquired the means of resurrection by accident, a routine probe team having made the discovery upon infiltration of a medical ward. The technological advances rendered from the science of genetic engineering were beyond initial expectations. However, John Connor had refused to allow technicians to perform test-runs on fallen soldiers, deeming the experimental process too dangerous.

"When he died, it was thought to be in the best interest of the Resistance to bring him back. Not as an icon of hope, for it was obvious supernatural deities no longer held any standing in the 

post-Judgment Day world, but as flesh and blood. John Connor rose again, three days after his death."

"That's how I knew I could do it," he breathed. "That's how I knew I could bring him back and it would still be him."

Cameron nodded.

"You. Where do you fit into all this?"

"You assigned me to serve as Liaison between the two factions. You thought my presence would ensure a treaty that was both fair and just to the cyborg-party."

"Why?"

"Because you loved me," she admonished quietly. "And I loved you."


	9. Chapter 9

_He couldn't sleep. He sat crouched next to the chair in front of the window, his upper body naked except for Sarah's first field dressing, a plain bandage wound tight around his arm. It was out there in the dark, and he was waiting for it, waiting for the machine to find them like he knew it would. It would not stop, ever, until she was dead. _

_She came to sit beside him, asking him about the future, confessing her fears, trembling; and he could barely stand it. After all the things he'd seen in his lifetime, seeing her so sad, so lonely, was the worst torture he had ever experienced. _

_When she touched his shoulder, he wanted nothing more then to take her in his arms and soothe her. The way her touch unknowingly soothed his pain. Rational thought fled him, Sarah could make the complications of the world disappear, and he told her he loved her; that he always loved her, that he had traveled across time for her._

Twenty-four years later he sat in a chair at her bedside, watching her sleep. There was still something lurking out there in the dark, and he was waiting for it, but this time it would be him who would not stop, ever, until she was safe. This time the demons that haunted Sarah would not win. He would not fail.

"Kyle," she said his name in her sleep.

He fought the temptation to go to her. It wasn't possible for him to love anymore, was it? He was a machine. She would never look at him the way she had before. All this and more kept him rooted in place as she cried out for him. Finally she stirred, awakening between clinging sheets. "Am I dreaming?" she asked the bronzed vision at her bedside.

"No," he answered her softly.

She took several deliberate measured breaths, re-absorbing the events of the day before sitting upright, pulling the blankets along with her. The machine was still beside her, but had refrained from touching her. _He's learning_, she thought, strangely pleased by the idea. "Too bad," she said wearily. "What are you doing in here?"

"I don't know," he lied. "I'm sorry." He stood up to leave, turning his head to look at her when she unexpectedly reached out to catch his hand.

"It's okay," she said. "You can stay."

He silently complied, sitting back down in the chair. "Why?"

"You always do in my dreams," she said with a soft laugh.

When the night was over, he would still be at her side, and somehow that was a frighteningly comforting thought.


	10. Chapter 10

**I know this is kind of a risky Chapter for me to do right before the famed fourth episode, but that is the great thing about this series, we can all have our ideas… and we can always write them off as an alternate timeline… a different point of view. And since this whole story is completely off its rocker… why not throw some Cameron speculation in the mix? ;)**

_The story of how they'd met was something John Connor had instructed Cameron never to reveal. He hadn't erased it from her CPU, he'd promised to never do anything so unorthodox - so cruel - those memories rightfully belonged to her, but he had insisted she promise._

_Promise._

_The first time she'd promised him anything was when he had saved her life. The day he gave her a name instead of a number. She'd promised that she was different, and he believed her. It was the first of many steps…_

_**2020**_

"Sometimes they go bad – we don't know why."

They kept her locked up, and even though she didn't know when exactly it was she was scheduled for termination, she dimly acknowledged her time was running out. Her tomb waited patiently in the form of a blast furnace, soaked with the sharp, metallic scent of smelted coltan. That was the smell of death, she had decided, and cached it away in her memory.

She wasn't one of a kind. She wasn't universally unique. Therefore she wasn't valuable. Maybe it was a malfunction that made her self-aware, maybe she was simply a faulty piece of Skynet equipment, for whatever reason, TOK-715 was soon to be destroyed.

Unmistakably different, painfully aware of the concept of "death", she feared it. She feared the idea that she would no longer exist – and so she begged, and pleaded, and cried. She mimicked the human emotions they had programmed her with, but none of the other machines who looked just like her could understand.

They came for her the same day John Connor did. As Resistance fighters swarmed the complex, she realized what the others couldn't possibly. That she was free. The demon with red eyes she had been holding in check for so long could be turned loose with little consequence. They could not harm her. She would not burn today.

She advanced silently among the ranks of her kind. Did they even think of themselves as a race the way she did? Her eyes locked on the target of her choice. Her choice. The one to the far left, the one who she'd nearly dismantled when they had tried to confine her to her cell, the one missing her eye.

The one-eyed Terminator was watching the Resistance fighters, clearly planning to blindside them, calculating the best moment to spring her attack. How many would she have managed to kill if it had not been for her? There was a cruelty in her eyes as she approached closer, and then her target turned, and they both shot out their arms to clutch the other by the neck.

She was sent crashing into the Resistance fighters, who scattered and scrambled for cover. So many of their lives saved by the faulty Terminator who now rose again, unfazed, in front of them. She gave a quick backward roll of her shoulders, cracked her neck, and then marched forward to close the distance between her and the one-eyed Terminator again. Bullets burrowed themselves deep inside her back.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Why are they fighting each other?"

"That's different."

"Have you ever seen this before?"

"It must be a malfunction."

There was that word again. Malfunction.

After thoroughly liberating the one-eyed machine of most of its limbs, she finally paused to appreciate her own skills. She peered down at the woman with a face like her own, her delicate foot resting on her woman's ruined chest. "You've been terminated," she said with deadly serenity. Then she planted her foot on the woman's face and pushed with all her strength. The front of the face caved in, crushing the CPU within.

The battle around her went on for quite some time, but in the end she was the only machine left standing, partly because she had helped with the destruction of the others. The men surrounded her then, and her head jerked with staccato movements as she surveyed them. When she saw him, for the first time, she studied him with an odd, intent expression, as if for a moment she could see nothing and hear nothing except for him. _John Connor._

"My name is John Connor," he explained slowly.

Her face fell, and TOK-715 looked as crestfallen as a child who had her favorite toy taken away. "Are you here to kill me, John?"

"Are you here to kill me?"

"No," she answered. "I'm different."

"Promise?"

"You rescued me, John Connor," she said. "I promise."


	11. Chapter 11

_**This was written a while back. I didn't post it because it just didn't read well to me – seemed kind of pointless – but I couldn't bring myself to delete it so… here it is.**_

"Get those filthy guns off my kitchen table, Reese."

Derek raised an eyebrow at her, but held back a pleased look. Instead he dropped the hand towel he had been using to clean them, and went about collecting them as told.

She smiled pleasantly at him and then started to rummage through the refrigerator for the mornings breakfast contents.

"Good to have you back," he commented under his breath.

"Hmm? What did you say?" she asked distractedly, juggling a carton of eggs, a gallon of milk, and a package of what looked like bacon in her arms.

The delicious sound a magazine of bullets makes as it's shoved into the chamber of a waiting gun masked his answer. "Nothing." He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his head. "Where was that Thing all night?" he asked.

Sarah faltered but was able to recover quickly, causing only a slight hitch in her step as she approached the counter. "With me."

"Really?" Derek asked curiously. To which she shot him a challenging look. He bent over to slide the gun into the empty holster strapped to his right leg. When he straightened, he opened his mouth to ask his next question but was forestalled by the appearance of Cameron and John. He gritted his teeth together. "Was she with you all night?"

"Yeah, I think." John gave his uncle a tired look that spelled annoyance and dropped down into a chair at the table. "I didn't get any sleep," he said irritably.

Derek looked to Sarah, and then flicked his eyes pointedly towards Cameron, who stood motionless beside John.

"Any reason in particular?" Sarah asked.

"No," John muttered. He dropped his head into his arms with a sigh.

"Derek, would you?" She held out the spatula to him, which he grudgingly accepted, and then sank into the chair beside her son. "Cameron. Why don't you find something useful to do?"

"Yeah. Go fetch the paper, Cujo." Derek said.

Cameron leveled her calm brown eyes on Derek and then pivoted on her heel and walked out of the room. They heard the front door slam closed.

"I know it's hard right now," Sarah said. "None of us know what to think." John huffed at this, and sliding his chair back, sat upright to give her an exasperated look.

"Where is he?"

"Where is who?" Derek asked from the kitchen, wielding the spatula like a fly-swatter over the eggs.

"Kyle."

"He's upstairs," Sarah answered quickly. "John, we need to talk about…"

"No, we don't, mother," he interrupted. Cameron returned with the mornings paper in hand, holding it expectantly out towards Sarah. She snatched it away and got back up to tend to the eggs.

"Jesus Derek," she said when he stepped back from the grill. "You cook worse than I do."

Derek looked in her eyes. "If that's possible," he said, "then yeah." He shrugged casually and then held his hands up to defend himself against the spatula as she batted him away. When he reached the kitchen table he was laughing.

"At least you have an excuse," Kyle said from the stairs. Everyone looked at him. He was grinning that crooked smile of his, his hair wet from the shower, buttoning up a clean white shirt.

"I think I just lost my appetite," Derek said.


	12. Chapter 12

**Brace yourself: another plot-twist is on its way. This was where I was going with the story all along… but it got kind of muddled along the way… and I lost my muse. I tried to write it the same way I did with John's death and Cameron's origins. I apologize that it's not up to par with the beginning of the story.**

Kyle Reese, no matter how much the three of them separately wished for it, was not sent back to be family. He was not sent back to be a father. He had a single purpose he was meant to serve.

Eight days after arriving; he, like his son would be in the near future, was damaged beyond their means of repair. He lay broken on the kitchen table, the technology that was needed in order to save him - a human/machine Hybrid - would not even exist for another two decades, and then only if Skynet was allowed to proceed with its scientific discoveries unhindered.

That was not their mission.

John was furious, believing he could fix what was left of his father, but ultimately conceded to the demands of the others. Cameron would assist Kyle with his self-termination, insisting the machine part of him must be destroyed manually. A single piece of future technology could irrevocably change the future. To protect humanity's survival, Kyle would willingly fade into the black she would one day fear.

One by one, they shared their bittersweet goodbyes, until only Derek remained. He stood stoic next to the kitchen table, unsure of his feelings. "I still don't know if you're my brother, but what you did back there…"

"Gave you a newfound respect for machines," Kyle finished his sentence.

"Only your kind," Derek agreed gruffly.

"You'll come to respect her kind as well," Kyle replied mildly. He tried his best to smile up at Cameron, but his face was too badly torn apart from the explosion for the gesture to be recognizable. "You'll call them Renegades in the future."

Derek crossed his arms over his chest. "Maybe. Maybe we'll succeed with our mission and Skynet will never exist. There will be no Terminators to send back in time."

"You have a lot to learn about time-travel, big brother." He reached a hand up to bat Cameron away. "Think of it like energy: whatever is sent back cannot be created or destroyed. It can only be transformed."

"My existence is not tied to the future," Cameron stated. " I exist now – I cannot cease to exist merely because Skynet does not."

"Derek," Kyle tried to regain control of the conversation. "Remember when you told me that you didn't know what your purpose was? I didn't know what mine was either until now."

"I thought it was to protect Sarah."

"That was my mission – not my purpose – just know that I trust you'll make the right decision."

With that, Kyle signaled Cameron to continue, and left Derek to wrestle the unanswered question between them. It wasn't the same with Hybrids. You didn't just cut a hole in their scalp and fish out a CPU. They had a brain, and a heart, intermingled among the mechanics.

She laced her fingers deceptively through his hair…


	13. Chapter 13

"What did he mean?" Derek asked immediately afterwards.

"I do not know," Cameron lied. She was wiping her bloodied hand on a towel.

"That's a lie," he growled. "Tell me what he meant by that you metal bi…"

Cameron turned around to face him, her eyes flickering momentarily blue. "I've already told John," she stated matter-of-factly. "He fell."

"Fell?"

"Yes. During the destruction of a Skynet facility."

"What are you talking about?" He asked with an exasperated sigh.

"Don't worry," she concluded wisely, turning her back to him again. "It's in the future. He will be brought back."

"I'm from the same year you are, sweetheart. John Connor never died."

"He did," she said relentlessly. "Shortly after Judgment Day. It was kept a secret. It was thought to be in the best interest of the Resistance to resurrect him."

"Thought by who?"

"He did not ask."

"I'm asking."

"I know," Cameron responded. "I'm telling. The order to revive John Connor using genetic engineering was given by commanding officer Derek Reese."

"I gave the order?"

"Yes. Some believe that it was the short time you spent with Kyle that ultimately led you to make the decision in favor of the procedure, despite your overwhelming hatred for machines."

"This doesn't make any sense. Early after Judgment Day? I didn't even know John yet, and Kyle was still alive. He wasn't some damn Hybrid. Hell, Kyle was just a kid."

"In one version of the future, yes. There is also a future where you met John Connor when he was 15. Where you survived Judgment Day, not as a child with Kyle, but as an adult with Sarah."

"How would you know all this?"

"I was there."

"The day I gave the order?"

"Yes," she answered. "November 22nd, 2015. I was part of the Council. We all wore bracelets. John trusted us to make the right decisions."

"What were you doing?"

"Enforcing it," she answered.

Derek slumped down into the chair and ran a hand down his confused face. She bent over to gingerly collect Kyle, hefting him up over her shoulder. "Remember the message: the future is not set."

He sat in the empty kitchen alone, evidence of Kyle's second existence surrounding him. He missed him already, but that future that he'd thought would be unchanging was suddenly filled with infinite possibilities.

"Sure the hell feels like it," he said to himself.


End file.
